they run but they can't hide

frustration and anger are too hard to master. that's why they can seldom be hidden.

to love is watching someone die

yes, it may be. but live is watch everyone dying. and when we no longer watch everyone dying, it's because we're dead.

knights of cydonia

man, they're good. saw them last night here in lisbon - yes, sometimes there are good things here in this city -, and they were simply amazing. of course, they left some great songs behind, as sing for absolution, sunburn, newborn and unintended, but hey, they couldn't play all their songs (unfortunately). i thought they'd end with butterflies and hurricanes, but they picked one of the new ones for that. and for that purpose, i think it works even better.

no one's gonna take me alive,
the time has time has come to make things right,
you and i must fight for our rights,
you and i must fight to survive!

no one's gonna take me alive,
the time has time has come to make things right,
you and i must fight for our rights,
you and i must fight to survive!

(muse)

on loneliness

i thought what i'd do was, i'd pretend i was one of those deaf-mutes. that way i wouldn't have to have any stupid goddam useless conversations with anybody. if anybody wanted to tell me something, they'd have to write it on a piece of paper and shove it over to me. they'd get bored as hell doing that after a while, and then i'd been through with having conversations for the rest of my life.

j.d. salinger, the catcher in the rye

random seasons

all this rain and wind and cold and thunder are turning this autumn into a high winter. the leaves on the trees don't even have the time to turn from green into crimson.

quoth the raven:

"don't ever tell anybody anything. if you do, you start missing everybody."

j.d. salinger, the catcher in the rye

without internet connection at home (II)

ny-lon, about a transatlantic romance. it has been a while since the last romantic tv series i'd seen, but this one is quite good.

without internet connection at home (I)

tripping the rift, with chode, six, gus, t'nuk and whip. a great laugh by the end of the night.

one year

one year ago, after my lunch, i saw the movie fight club (with brad pitt and edward norton) at school. quite a remarkable movie, it made my imaginagion to start working again - apparently, it had gone on vacations. so i decided to put an end to my previous blog - the darkside rebirth. it had been a very funny blog for me, although its origin was shadowed by my feelings towards an ex-love. so, and despite some posts about many other things about my inner me, it was basically an arena where all my hatred and sorrow ruled above everything else. it was an obvious mistake, one that i sweared i'd never repeat.

so i made this blog. and although sometimes it seems must like the darkside rebirth, it introduced some new conceptions. first, the language - always english, no matter what. it might be hard because english is not my base language, but it's a challenge. then, i decided that i should write smaller posts - sometimes only one sentence with an idea, period. i don't do it all the time, but every rule has its own exceptions. last but not least, i decided to never focus it on (my) love, ex love, whatever. there is more in the world than that.

the fight club movie was the cornerstone of this blog. it's funny to think that one year has passed and i've never seen the movie again. anyway, one year ago, this adventure started. one year of suicide notes, melancholy, joy (sometimes). one year of the best and the worse of me. but most of all, one year doing one of the things that more pleasure gave me doing.

to the few of you that read me, thank you.

john

and meanwhile...

. . . . this blog is almost one year old. a good friend once told me that birthdays should never be celebrated when we are young, since the only thing to celebrate is one less year in our lives. the birthday, says he, should be wildly celebrated when we're old and decaying, because then, every year we can live is a small victory over death. even if we're doing nothing but to delay the inevitable.

couldn't agree more (hence the reason - or one of the reasons - why i don't like to celebrate my birthdays). still, one year blogging here is quite remarkable for me. one year of depressive, melancholic posts. i'll talk wbout it again in five days.

suicide note IV

we are standing upon the very edge of our world, where everything is frozen under a cold, black sun. it no long lights our path, it no longer warms our backs as we walk side by side, hands together, along our way. behind, are the shadows of what we were, fleeting dreams, delusions as what we thought we would be was certain, taken for granted. ahead, the fall, the dephts of solitude, of hatred, of a sorrow as deep as the end of the world we face now. i do not know what you think. i don't know how your eyes see what we left behind, or how they see the flow and reflow of the turbulent tides that swept us over.

it may seem fast, so fast that we couldn't see it before we were drowning on it. but no, oh no, it was not fast, it was not violent. it was slow, inexorable. we felt it in our feet, and we laughed at it. we felt it on our knees, and we said to each other that everything would be all right. we felt it on our waist - and we were naïve enough to believe that we were bigger than it, stronger than it. we could be saved. we could save ourselves.

but then, the tide reached our shoulders, our necks, our chins, and we were forced to see what we didn't want to see. we tried to stop the unstoppable flow of cold, dark water. we built walls of stone to climb to safety. but we forgot each other. we climbed alone.

and here we stand now, together but alone still, as our walls are caving in over us. everything that has a beginning has an end. we didn't chose to be born, to be here, to exist, but we know that we can chose how we end. yet we've chosen our path. perhaps the choices are given only once, and we can't chose how it will end.

still, some scales must be even. it's about time.

here we go again

class time. boooooring.

slacking

it's the favourite activity of the bastards that work in my internet provider. one month has passed and nothing. no net to anyone. where are the terrorists when we need them to plant a bomb somewhere?